How (Not) To Soothe A Siren (Cindy Eller Book 9) - Plot & Excerpts
I pinched myself when no one was looking, just in case I was in the middle of one of those crazy dreams brought on by too much ice cream and not enough sleep. Nope. He was still there, smiling away behind that ridiculous beard. He had slapped his hat back on his head, either not noticing or not caring that it was still mashed and in decidedly worse shape than when he had removed it. I wanted to groan. How was I going to be able to take him seriously in a hat like that? Or with that bushy, spikey beard of his? The Merlin I had known had been staid and handsome in a feline sort of way. He had been the epitome of fastidious felinehood. I had so many questions. Mom, of course, took Merlin’s reappearance, and as a man, without so much as a hitch in her step. Her face even turned a little pink when my former-familiar bent over her hand and kissed it, like any Elizabethan-era gentleman. He grinned impishly up at her and twirled his mustache like any silent movie villain.
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